Karagoz
by Kotonaru
Summary: Deesha Barry wasn't always an exorcist, and he wasn't always Deesha Barry. If the villagers of Bodrum were asked who he was, no one would know. They would, however, know Deesha Behromoglu, and they'd say he was full of trouble.
1. First Street

**Title: **Karagoz: part one  
**Author/Artist: **Kotonaru  
**Fandom: **D.Gray-man  
**Pairing/Character: **Deesha Barry  
**Theme:** 1st Street for 25streetsigns at Livejournal  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** D.Gray-man belongs to Hoshino Katsura. I'm just borrowing it.. and trying to make sense of it.  
**Note:** "Karagoz" is a traditional Turkish character found in shadow theater. The character is a is a trickster whose sole interests lie in sleeping and eating. His name is a compound of "kara," which means black, and "goz" meaning eye.

Pieces of paper exchanged hands and the worn gray cloak that hid Deesha Behromoglu grumbled and indicated to the customer with a Pause (as he was enshrouded in the cloak, where a Look would have been impossible) that his fee was to be left in the floppy brown hat beside him. The hat'd seen better days, just like the rest of the cart. He never planned to clean the dust that covered it, neither. It wasn't like he actually ever used the cart except for when the extra cash was worth the effort of dragging it from its top-secret hiding place on the edge of town. Plus, it added to the "bookish" atmosphere.

As the region's youngest scam artist, he needed all the help he could get, dust included. You see, from the moment he first opened his eyes, Deesha was "the bad one" and sometimes it's difficult to live up to a reputation like that.

It was because of the gypsy witch. His father had saved her from drowning during one of his long fishing trips, his mother said, and the crone told him the world would be blessed if their next child took her name. Yeah, right. His grandparents warned his parents that no good would come from naming their son after a gypsy, and Deesha had to agree with them.

Because of her, he was marked with strange catlike eyes, and nothing good ever came out of being different like that. After all, it'd be no good if someone recognized him while he was "scribing," which was really more like scribbling, for the illiterate villagers of Bodrum. So Deesha took extra measures to make sure he wouldn't be seen.

He had a good thing going on. It was hard work; he was only eleven, after all. He was real worried about the nun on First street catching on, though- the one with the fake smiles. Deesha could tell they were fake, he'd seen more of those than real ones in his years (even then, most were for other people). He hated those smiles more than the frowns. At least the frowns were honest.

She cursed him, the young boy was more sure of it every time he walked by the small chapel. He grumbled as the pain in his head always got worse when she stood out on the pounded earth streets, and rang her bell while calling for donations. Of course.. he'd never heard of a nun cursing nobody, but he'd never heard of a lady having a beard before the circus, neither.


	2. Stop

**Title: **Karagoz: part two  
**Author/Artist: **Kotonaru  
**Fandom: **D.Gray-man  
**Pairing/Character: **Deesha Barry  
**Theme:** Stop for 25streetsigns at Livejournal  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** D.Gray-man belongs to Hoshino Katsura. I'm just borrowing it.. and trying to make sense of it.  
**Note:** "Karagoz" is a traditional Turkish character found in shadow theater. The character is a is a trickster whose sole interest is sleep and eating. His name is a compound of "kara," which means black, and "goz" meaning eye.

In hindsight, maybe stealing from a _nun,_ of all people, really wasn't such a good idea. Hindsight kinda worked like that. He screwed up, and it pointed it out after. Yeah, thanks. That did him a lot of good _now_.

But the nun wasn't really a nun, Deesha determined after a week of "study". More like a witch in a real clever disguise. He kinda wished he'd thought of it. But, since this nun was really a witch, God wouldn't mind he swiped the bell (which, with any luck, was the source of her powers) ... at least, that's what the young Turk hoped. He didn't pay much attention to the Bible.

The eleven-year-old was hoping for a lot of things right then, actually. At the top of that list, there was a bleak hope that the angry mob chasing him, with hooks and nets in hand, would just forget about the whole thing. The bell's ringing (that didn't give him headaches anymore) echoed down the streets, announcing his presence and his crime.

In that next few moments, a number of unexpected things happened. For starters, a gang of well-dressed teenage boys hiding in the doorway of a peasant's house rushed out and formed a barricade in front of him. Deesha bounced off the wall of fresh cotton shirts and fell with a loud thud (it was the closest to clean clothes he'd been in a long time), and the bell fell from his grasp with a clatter on the cobbled streets.

Two, when the bell's ringing should have died away, it continued and resonated louder and louder until Deesha should have been writhing on the ground in pain.

And as sure as the fact that three comes after two, when Deesha slowly rose to his feet he saw that the fishermen who were chasing him, as well as the teens, all were hunched over and clutching their heads. Some screamed in pain, others beyond screaming. Deesha would've felt more sympathy for them if they hadn't been after his head not long ago.

Not one to waste a good opportunity when he saw one, Deesha bolted through an alley and climbed a conveniently placed pile of crates onto a roof and crossed several more until settling in the attic of an abandoned house... of course, not before grabbing the bell. The nun may have been a witch, but the bell was his now.


End file.
